wandering in a wilderness lost

 Posted in Epilepsy forum:  
I don't even remember posting this last spring, but thanks, artsygirl08, for bringing it back to my attention. When I originally wrote this, I was about to find out the truth about my daughter... that she had been sexually assaulted the summer before, and was trying to cope with the aftermath herself... last spring was when everything came to a head. I think the old-fashioned way of putting it is, my daughter had a nervous breakdown. What I took as drug side effects was actually... my daughter falling apart. It has been an excruciating process, trying to get her back. She is still out there, still seething, still resisting treatment or help. I look back through my calendar last year, at all the appointments I took her to, all the doctors, the counselors we tried, the medications, the programs, the lost days of work, the miles, the hours, the blind rage and disdain and disgust and hatred she reserves for me, because I am the one who keeps trying... because I am the one who won't turn my back on her... because I am convenient, I am safe, I am her mom... My daughter was an honor student, a vegetarian, a conservationist, a physically active, strikingly beautiful, conscientious, personable young lady. She was in Latin Club, Marching Band, Conservation Club, National Honor Society, she won highest awards in her school for her poetry and writing portfolio, won a full scholarship to community college, and maintained Dean's List there for a year and a half... until she bottomed out... If you met her now, you wouldn't want to speak with her more than 3 minutes. She has been robbed of... herself. And whatever wasn't destroyed by the assault, she has obliterated herself, by spiralling, by refusing, by slamming doors... Everything that was her, is now opposite. She's mean. She turns people off. She's weird. Oh my god, how it hurts to write that. Every once in a while she breaks down and cries and is gentle and it's her, I can hear my daughter in there, she speaks from her heart... I know she's in there, that beautiful girl... but the outside, the mask, is so ugly. She doesn't live with me now, she lives with a boyfriend... whooooboy, whole other story... God help them both... But I don't see her, and I am able to put her out of my mind for patches of time... I still try to help, but she's not accepting, she seems to think her life is just fine how it is, she plays video games all night and sleeps all day. She is on two seizure meds and one for anxiety. She sleeps a lot, and when she is awake, she is... weird. Her comments are weird. Her laugh is harsh, her sense of humor is off. People exchange glances behind her back. Even strangers. I've seen it. I know this probably reads as harsh judgement on her, she's been through so much, but I'm just trying to be truthful, this comes from a place of such pain, my heart, for her loss, for my loss, for her sisters' and brother's loss... She's lost. I'm here though. If she calls.. I keep the door open and the light on.